Search Results for 'family'

Phlora was gathering sunflowers as she always did when they were at their yellowest in the midst of summer. Just before they started to wither and become a feast for the birds.
Her brothers Floywn and Hywrik were busy hunting with the family winged horse, and would be gone for the day. Maybe she’d bake a cake for when they’d return… She wondered were Phinny her sister had gone for so long. It had been almost a season she was off the green.

[link:sunflower]

sharon told later surprise saying cloud create spiders supposed gift characters strange family…

:weather-showers-scattered:

The poor Peaslanders were utterly disoriented by the blatant lack of sense in the Eighth Dimension. It was such a blessing they had for most of them already lost their head, kept safe by a dear member of the family.

Once in front of them, the glowing figure uttered ominously:

“opened everyone eye ball,
Worserversity nonsense portal deep
sheila Elizabeth bird gone surprise
come speak thread
face cat Godfrey later create”

And then the figure disappeared in a fit of oink oink’s.

“I think it’s her shoes that make the strange sucking sounds in the mud” aptly remarked little Pickel.
“How come you know it was a ‘her’, it could have been a cloud as far as I know…” retorted Autie Toot who never got a chance to get a good look, with her head upside down in her arms.

“Silence!” ordered Pee Stoll more raucously than he had wished to “We need to concentrate! This riddle may be the clue to the plague of blubbits, can’t you see?!”
“Well… It’s not that easy, you know” Auntie Looh objected sheepishly, while still struggling with her garments as well as with her head.

“I think it’s fairly simple” ventured S’illy (whom nobody ever listened to, probably owing to her tender age as well as her melodious voice) “We got to find the Worseversity, they probably have worked on a cure; our contacts there will be a sheila called Elizabeth… and a Godfrey will provide a cat to eat the bird and put us back to our dimension…”

“Darn riddle!” sweared Pee furiously who hadn’t paid any attention “It’s probably just another bunch of nonsense!”
“I guess we’ll just go anywhere then!” merrily suggested the Aunts each going in opposite directions while the bird rolled its eyes.

Penelope was looking fondly at her family’s heads on the mantelpiece, comfortably seated in her armchair in front of the dancing flames.
“This is so much better than TV or embroidering… Toot and Looh really don’t know what they’re missing!”

One tiny thing that Pee and his family wasn’t entirely aware of, as well as poor Bentworth Sadnick, was that the Old Portal was indeed… old.
An ancient generation’s which allowed only transfer of biological entities, whereas all things manufactured, such as the latest shiny head-fasteners, wouldn’t be passed through the portal.

This would have explained to the inquiring minds why there was an inordinate amount of plastic garbage in front of the rusty and Old Portal to the Eighth Dimension.

But no one thought of asking, forgetting for the most part that the elastics of their pants were made mostly of inorganic stuff…

Almost unperturbed by the sudden distraction coming from the remarkably head-in-the-clouds Doily, despite her seemingly headlessness-lessness, and applying instead his famous adage, Better stick to one’s own nonsense than follow another’s Mewrich thundered “Well, if you don’t mind, I’ll explain about the beard, so that we can all get back to our business, and you out to your quest (and off my home)”.

“Yes! Will you finally tell us about the bird, the notes, and all that buggery to get to that Eighth dimension and vanquish the darn blubbits invasion!” Pee Stoll almost cried out.

Carefully, Mewrich reached out for a tiny peacock in his aviary, a poor thing which was plucking its feathers after all that noise, that he may as well have chosen at random from the menagerie.
“Take this bird, and make it sing four notes, I said FOUR! not one more, not one less! in front of the great portal of Nibabuz and you should be able to get past the old Keeper… JUST DON’T try to interrupt me, by the coils of the great Snakipooh, you rude tart!” “You have to get past the Keeper, but he’s old and a bit arthritic, so all you’ve got to do is have him walk on his beard, and get past him.”

Dolores was about to add a little flourish, but all of them, the headless Stoll family, and Doily’s eccentric entourage where ushered out of the cave by the angered Saucerer. And every Peaslander knew you wouldn’t anger a Saucerer without having to deal with dreadful consequences. The green wig of Dolores being probably the remnant of one of these consequences.

“AHAHAHA” the man in a loincloth greated them “or…” he added with a mischievous wink “perhaps shall I say Oooh ooh ooh.”
Mewrich wasn’t a man short of a some raspiness and prickliness in his voice either.
“MY FRIENDS, you are a most welcome and delightful breath of headlessness coming to this house” he said, vaguely designing the moistly and mossy hole behind him.

“Your cave!?” retorted Lilli a bit bossily and raucously
“Don’t be rude S’illy!” Pee said through his breath (S’illy was the little family moniker standing for Sis’ Lilli).

“Yes my cave, dear ones. And I’m not silly!”
“Well of course you’re not her” Pickel muttered, still angered at the failed appreciation of his earlier prank. He wished he had left his posterior at home too now.
“Don’t try to confuse me! These confuddling talents would be best kept for when you are in ED. But let us not waste precious and mucous time. Let me show you my bird.” he added without further ado.

nonsense help remembered creating
fellowship yurick worry prof class obvious
create details wanted mention stay
assignment moment family god giving
somewhat

New Venice, October 2117

Now, where were we? Midora suddenly felt that the need for an agenda was called for. Spread out in front of her were a few collages and some balls of energy from all the links and connections she had found in the stories of her ancestors and gathered so far.

Since her fathers Oscar and Bart had adopted the twins Hari and Jacq, her usually tidy room had been a mess. Fortunately, the adoption was almost complete, and in a mere week, the twins would then be able to choose another family, which they made clear they intended to do. She felt so appreciative that adoption was no longer bound by traditional laws of responsibility of the parents and ridden by culpability; instead, it was a healthier cooperation between the parents and children, and children were free to go with other families if they felt the desire for a different experience.
When they’d adopted Hari and Jacq, Bart and Oscar had wanted for a continuation of the experience of bringing up children, which they did not have for a long time with Midora, as she was quite independent from an early age. And in truth, Jacq and Hari were very interactive and playful, and to be perfectly honest, quite a handful; in a few weeks, the apartment would surely seem deserted and empty.

So, during that time, Midora’s researches on the stories had been put to a halt, and a lots of her energy balls which were usually neatly ordered on her lightboard were now merged for some, changed of forms for others… all thanks to her half-bros. She barely knew were to start to get a better view of it now.

Let me see… there were a few threads going on there, and all we need is untangle some of them…

She’d had fun reconnecting with the “Island of Dr Transvestite” theme, but now she found out, her favorite characters Shar and Glor, were now disembodied, stranded in transition, and perhaps waiting to be reborn to a nine-titted alien in the Worseversity after failed attempts of channeling. So far, no signs of developments for them though.

As far as the Ooh-dimension was concerned, the shift of Vowellness was probably complete, and she couldn’t find anything new being published by Ms Tattler in all now probable directions she was looking into. She was of course ignoring the disrupted echoes from the Jumbled Eights thread, which were probably the brainstorming board of ideas of the writer, which she had the greatest difficulty to follow (she wondered if even the writer could).

Her own thread and the details of the history of the Wrick family was always sketchy and full of holes; she’d attempted at learning more about the elusive Becky , but she kept blinking in and out of continuity, too quickly for her to follow her anywhere in her explorations.

Oh, and the Alienor dimension was still going on, though most of its development wasn’t yet showing up. What had happened of Arona, Franiel, Irtak’s father, the gripshawk? And now that Malvina was gone too… She’d found Mrs Chesterhope after her strange amnesiac shapeshifting accident however; and that was encouraging.

So strange, all of these characters are so alive, she thought fondly, and yet none of them seem motivated enough to project themselves out with force and steadiness into her energy balls which still had a sort of blurriness and haphazardness to them.

She made the intent to project more energy in the direction of stabilizing the currents of the strands of stories, and the energy balls’ colors started to shimmer lightly. That was certainly the way to go. Which one would be the most alluring to explore and follow?

Santiago, Chile, May 2020

For the last past years, Becky now a pretty young teenager had been traveling from one school to another to pursue her artistic aspiration, but more so to discover as many places as possible. Schools were a necessary evil, for as long as she was too young to choose without her father’s consent, but at least she could choose which one she wanted to go to.
Although she barely remembered it now, she already did a fair deal of traveling out of the body when she was younger, helping her to map out the places and order in which she wanted to see them later. All of that subjective programming of sorts was now extremely helpful to her forgetful nature, as all she needed do was to trust her impulses to go here and there.
She would then magically find a distant relative who had been lost in the far ends of the family tree, or a friend of a friend who would accept to host her or recommend her to a friend. From there, her open nature and smiles did the rest to win them over.

In a month from now, she would be eighteen, and she wanted to go somewhere else, perhaps settle down for a little while. She had taken a world map and thrown a few coloured pins to let randomness choose for her, as she trusted it was her proper way of essence, so to speak. To her surprise, none of the pins seemed to stick but a single one in the vicinity of New York. America wasn’t her natural choice of predilection, but she knew she could trust the random flow of events. And to top that, she knew her aunt Charmille was living there. It would be easy then.

Charmille was the elder sister of Sabine Baina N’Diaye, Becky’s mother and first wife of Dan. She was a middle-aged eccentric and cheerful lady, who had never married, proudly saying that it was what had kept her young at heart. She was living in Brooklyn with a dozen birds twittering all day, and a few cats and other creatures the neighbours would give her to care for while they were away.

When she learnt that her niece would come here for three months, she first thought that it was a darn long time to be nice to anybody. But then she smiled and went preparing the spare room and brush the cats’ hair off the sheets.

is there some hidden message in that one?

Spend random says georges
although malvina accent send family
friend inside odd questions thought
bea three work everywhere front details knew

“Did you call me?” Sumhellfi the Devilish Half-Elf Half-Goblin of the lost Dhataland poopped into existence to answer the wishes of the lost soul.

When she had tripped on the dog’s turds that her friends had reminded her more than once to take care of removing, she also inadvertently moved the old family dusty fish-clock that sings when you stoke it. Only that it had not sung for years —Flove forbids! That awful drunkard song didn’t play now there wasn’t any battery left in the horrible decoration.
Was it a magic clock? With a genie in there?

While Yoland was lost in deep thoughts and concern, Sumhellfi leaned forward with an enticing raise of the eyebrows “May I offer you some sliced naggin? It tastes like coleslaw they say…”

I think Aspooh is too busy mourning her cat which she had embalmed and mummified to pay any attention to the piglet (it be).

“Did you know that ancient Egyptians shaved their eyebrows in sign of mourn when the family cat died?”

What do you think of “Cellar door” as a name? Some eminent linguist has proposed it was the most beautiful association of nouns in the whole English language…

Now, Lavender was puzzled; why in the name of all the angels’ choir, Harvey was speaking of nun associations? Soon he’ll be talking of peanuts at that rate…

This whole Shifting business was definitely taking its toll on uncanny understandings…